Rosemary and Thyme
by Oniko
Summary: Hermione's friends talk her into undergoing past life regression to discover her soulmate. SSHG


Rosemary and Thyme

By Oniko

Created by J.K. Rowling

"Hermione, guess what we learned in Divination today!" Lavender and Parvati bounced into her room.  Hermione had been ecstatic at being made prefect and getting her own room, little did she know there was no escape from the roommates.

"I dunno, what?" _Some new and improved way to annoy me?_

"Past life regression! You have to let us practice on you!"  Lavender gushed.  Hermione rolled her eyes. _What do you know, I was right the first time._

"Yeah, we could help you find your soul-mate," Parvati nodded.

"I don't think so." Hermione said, although she knew it was a lost cause.  The two girls would beg and wheedle and whine until she gave in but she'd be damned if she didn't go down kicking and screaming.  In the end it took three hours.  Hermione justified the easy win with having to study for an Arithmancy test.  The sooner she gave in the sooner she got the girls to leave her alone, the sooner she could get on with her studying.  She lay back on her bed, with Lavender and Parvati hovering over her one on either side.  First, they had to attempt to put her under hypnosis three times.  Luckily for them, Hermione was accustomed to meditation and so went under despite their best efforts.  Soon she was standing in her Sanctuary.  Her library of memories she had built piece by piece over the years.  Not in the garden or house or forest clearing that they wanted to put her in.

She stepped out of the fireplace into the Central Chamber.  A beautiful room filled with light streaming through stained-glass windows to create patterns on the floor and a gilded cathedral ceiling rose high above her.  All around her books and scrolls, memories and snippets of wisdom she had learned lay patiently waiting for her to need them.  She turned and walked to the Children's Section of her Library.  This area was filled with her oldest memories, here was the stage she performed on for a school play, here was a get well card made for her by her best friend when she broke her leg, here was a mobile that her parents hung over her crib it played _Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star._  And in the back, hidden in the shadows, there was a small door that she had never seen before.  Certainly she had not put it there.  She opened the door-

-and stepped into the apothecary's shop.  She loved the woody-sweet scent of the place.  She also enjoyed talking to the old herb-man he knew so many things.  And he liked telling her well enough, he said she was like a second apprentice.  Her da said so too and slapped her for it.  He said that girls didn't need any of that devil-spawn knowing to lay a bed or birth a babe.  But she suspected he just said that 'cause he was worried she was tipping her skirts for the herb-man's apprentice.  Not that she wouldn't mind, she liked the look of him.  He was a dark one, gypsy dark where most others were brown or red.  He was rather stern and quiet as well, always watching everyone like a priest for sin, but if you listened to him talk it was plain that stupidity was the only sin he saw.  She couldn't help but wonder sometimes if he wasn't right about it.

"Can I help you with anything."  His voice sent shivers up her spine, cold and cruel, no wonder the girls whispered he was a demon given human form.

"Is the herb-man in?" She asked.  "Mum's got a bit of a fever, we don't think it's plague but we need to bring it down before the neighbors catch wind and lock us in the house."

"He had to go out.  Miller's wife is spawning and so is Mary down by the brook.  Biddy Mae could only cover one or the other and Mary's got complications."

"Really?"  She leaned in, another fringe benefit of being friends with the quiet, watchful types, they knew what was going on.  He nodded and set aside the plants he was shredding.  

"You'll need an infusion of feverfew."  He said takeing down the appropriate jars.  Most people he wouldn't have bothered explaining, just given them what they needed with proper instructions.  She, on the other hand, had him well trained to anticipate her questions.  After last winter she knew all she needed to about fevers so instead she asked him about the plants he had set aside.  He hesitated but still told her, "Rosemary and thyme to stimulate the memory."  They talked while he worked.  She could have just gotten the feverfew herself but coming into the village got her away from the chores.

"I saw the wedding bans posted." And the preparations for her impending marriage.  "You must be pleased, the chandler's a wealthy man."

"Oh, I must be pleased, must I?"  She bristled. "And what good will the wealth do me if I'm dead in a year.  The man's got three wives already dead in birthing his babes."

He nodded his head slightly conceding her point.  "I had wondered myself why girls were clambering for number four."

"If you ask me I don't rightfully know."  She said.  "I wish…but what's the point, what's done is done, and he's already paid the bride price."

"If…" he trailed off, focusing his attention on straining the infusion through fine cheesecloth.  They didn't speak again until the infusion was sealed in a ceramic jar and wrapped in protective sackcloth for the walk back home.  "If I'd had the money I'd have bid for you myself."

She looked up into his dark eyes and thought she would cry.  Instead she squared her shoulders and turned away.  "What's done is done, and I doubt Da would've accepted your suit no matter that I'd wish it otherwise."  She opened the door and stepped through-

-into a cellar.  It was filled with half-familiar things that Hermione knew she had never seen before.  Just as she had never created such a cellar for her Sanctuary, yet here it was.  She looked over the assorted collection of junk trying to decide what to look at first when a set of golden manacles caught her eyes.  Golden manacles and bronze chains-

-that gleamed in what little sunlight filtered down to her.  True sunlight only struck her eyes once a day for the short span of time that it took the sun to pass over the opening in her cave.  Other than that she was bathed in the firelight from torches and lamps and burning fragrant woods.  She lay on the ground with the stone cold against her back and the manacles cold on her wrists and ankles.  Her vipers coiled around her, huddled along her body for warmth.  Priests stood all around her chanting prayers but watchful of her snakes, they have their forked staves ready should any try to escape the pen.  Their chanting changed, announcing the arrival of a supplicant.

She turned and stared at him, she Saw all of him, mind and soul.  He found her dilated gaze unnerving but he was a powerful warrior and stood against his fears.  She knew his question before he asked.  As all the men who paraded in before him and all who would petition her favor afterwards, he asked the wrong question.  She briefly toyed with giving him the right answer anyway, to have him break these chains and carry her away.  But what did men care for love and life?

The priests took her silence as lack of visions and one of them reached their sticks out to prod the snakes that rested along her body.  One hissed at the annoyance and lashed out at the prodding staff.  The priest was skilled, having done this many times before, and the snake bit her sinking fangs into flesh instead of the wooden staff.  Sharp pain, and the venom burned like fire through her veins.  This would kill her one day she Knew.  The venom reached her mind and her physical vision blurred as the Sight sharpened.  He was hers, maybe not now.  Now he had other princesses to pursue and other towers to fell but he would come back to her, always.  She had time.

"Troy."  She said answering his question.  "Your name shall echo through the ages from the walls of Troy."

He bowed deeply and left his offering with the priest.  It was plundered gold, she could still smell the burning city he took it from.  She called him back to her and the priests shifted uncomfortably.  This was unprecedented once the offering was made it was over but she didn't care.  "The charm you carry, the rosemary and thyme.  Burn it."

He cupped his hand protectively over the small bundle tucked under his breastplate but he took it out and tossed it into the fire.  She closed her eyes and relaxed under the weight of her serpents.  At least one of them deserved the bliss of forgetfulness.  If only she could set aside her burden of visions as easily as he burned the little charm.  The manacles dragged on her wrist.  They clashed together metal clanging against metal-

-as Hermione dropped them to the ground.  She stepped away from them and her fingers brushed a small blue silk ribbon-

-that was tied around a tiny spray of flowers and leaves.  Little somethings that she had seen growing in the kitchen garden.  He handed them to her with all the pomp and formality of a suitor presenting a horde of diamonds.  He was dressed as a wealthy caliph and she wouldn't have been surprised if he had presented such.  No prince was he, the fact that he was in the harem without either her father or the eunuchs any wiser showed him for the sorcerer that rumor claimed he was.  And a very subtle and clever one at that if his gift was anything to judge by.  The spray of flowers and leaves, rosemary and thyme for remembrance he told her, was a simple gift any stable boy would present to some serving girl.  And the real gift, the ribbon, was presented as a trifle, an ornament.  An expensive trifle, the brilliant shade of blue so evenly dyed that was rarely achieved by the most skilled and it was capped with silver set with black sapphires the size of her fingertip.  He was cunning indeed and that intrigued her more then his striking looks that caught her eye across the crowded court.

"It's beautiful."  She said bringing the spray up to her nose and sniffed delicately, trying not to flush in pleasure as his eyes roved over her body that was clad only in the lightest of sheer silks she wore in the privacy of the harem.  "I think I shall call the guards though."

"Now, why would you do such a thing?"  He asked her stepping closer, their bodies almost touching and only the small spray of flowers covered her mouth from his gaze.  

"I think that neither my father nor my future husband would appreciate me entertaining men without proper chaperone."

"And are you so entertaining?  _Leviosa_."  A small shriek escaped her lips as her feet left the ground and she was floating in mid-air.  She twisted and turned in vain to see how she was being supported.  He laughed at her efforts and with a gesture she gently drifted over the bed where she was dropped.  Before she could stand he was on her kissing and touching, his mouth hot on her skin.  She should push him away she knew, her father would be so angry, but she never wanted anything as much as she wanted him.  It took her a moment to realize that he was speaking to her  "…husband in deed and name."

He looked down at her expectantly.  She shook her head.  "But I shall never be your wife."

He blinked, surprise registering only briefly on his face.  "So long as you have this power, Prince Wizard, and I do not I shall be less than the earth beneath your feet." She said.  "Lend me but the smallest measure of your power and I will be your wife in truth."

He laughed again and the delight on his normally shadowed face was a pleasure to behold.  "Clever girl.  I would give you such a thing if I could.  I would give you the moon and the stars should you ask.  But this power I cannot." 

"Then what, sir, can you do for me?" She asked.

"What can I do?" he asked lowering his head to nuzzle gently behind her ear his voice soft and silken.  "I can bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death.  I can show you magics that cause the very air to shimmer with power, or the lightest, delicate touches that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…"

The ribbon was entangled around their intertwined fingers, the sapphires flashing-

-as it fell to the floor.  Hermione froze, uncertain if she wanted to run from the strange room filled with memories that were hers, yet not hers, or to stay and explore.  But someone was calling her, urgently and sounding panicked.  She walked up the stairs and through the door.  The apothecary memory was still there but this time it didn't grab at her like before.  She walked back to the Central Chamber of her Sanctuary, stepped through the fireplace and into her body.

"Two…one. You're awake."  Lavender said while Parvati was begging under her breath "Please, wake up, wake up, wake…"

"I'm awake."  She said sitting up.

"Oh, thank Merlin."

"See, I told you it would work."

"So, who is he?"

"Who is what?"  Hermione asked.

Lavender tsked.  "Your soul-mate of course."

"How am I supposed to figure that from three different guys."  She asked crossly but the realized that they weren't three different men, they were all the same soul.  

"That's the beauty of the spell." Parvati proclaimed triumphantly.  "The memories were specifically selected with some common key element that you can use to identify him in this lifetime.  So, who is it?"

"I don't know."

"You have to."

"No, I don't."  Hermione snapped, growing tired of humoring them. "Obviously, the 'key element' or what ever didn't work because I did not wake up with an epiphany of who I have to spend the rest of my life with.  Now, if you don't mind I do have studying to do.  I think I've wasted enough time with this nonsense."

The girls grumbled but they left her alone.  The moment she shut the door she could hear them giggling and speculating over who it could be.  Lavender was betting on Ron and Parvati was arguing for Harry.  She shook her head.  Who ever he was he wasn't either of them.  He was more intelligent and mature then either of those boys by far.  _Hmm, interesting choice of words, maybe he's older._  She frowned and puzzled at all the little hints and impressions of the man.  She briefly debated going back into the cellar room in her Sanctuary.  Now that she knew of it she was sure she could find it again.  But it was already long past Midnight.  Those three memories took a lot of time and she had Advanced Potions first thing in the morning.  She was under the covers already when she remembered her Arithmancy.  She should get up, she should pull an all-nighter, but the bed was so soft and the sheets so warm.  True sleep sucked her under and her dreams were filled with gentle hands, dark eyes, and a soft silken voice.  Morning came all too soon.  She rushed into the potions classroom moments before Professor Snape and tried to stifle her labored breathing, least he notice and deduct points.  "Today we will be studying the family of memory enhancement potions.  Knowledge I hope that you blithering idiots will be able to put to some practical use.  The family contains many different potions with varying effectiveness depending on one's needs.  What are the two main ingredients found in all memory enhancements?  Anyone?"

Hermione's hand shot up before her mind caught up and supplied the answer, she froze with her hand half in the air.  Snape must have caught the panicked look on her face because he called on her for the first time in her current memory.  "Rosemary and thyme."

He glared at her as if she had somehow tricked him into calling on her.  "Correct, as usual, Miss Granger.  And what substance must NOT be included…Miss Brown?"

Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape.  If she hadn't been watching him, if she was watching the hapless Lavender like everyone else, she would have missed it, but briefly, he smiled at the joke that no one else understood.

"I…I don't…" Lavender stammered flipping through the book.  It was an unfair question, even if it was funny, the answer wasn't in the reading assignment. Hermione kicked Lavender's chair lightly to get her attention.

"Your name, say your name."  She hissed.

"I…ah…Lavender?"

"That is correct, Miss Brown."  Snape scowled at having his line taken away from him.  "Five points from Gryffindor Miss Granger, I expect your classmates to do their own work."

"Yes, sir. Sorry."  She said, hoping that she appeared suitably chastised as she was trying very, very hard not to giggle.  This wasn't the first time she caught the oblique little jokes and puns he dropped into his lectures.  She learned early on not to laugh at them the first time earned her a detention and the silent treatment from the rest of the Gryffindors.  Who inevitably missed Snape's little jokes completely and no doubt would later be comforting Lavender for being targeted by 'that greasy git.'

Hermione worked with Lavender on the project only half thinking about it.  Mostly she was thinking about Snape.  Once she got over the initial shock it made sense.  He was very intelligent and funny, even if it was in a slightly warped way.  His looks, he's looked better but he was, well, him.  And what was she going to do about it?  She shredded the rosemary carefully, exactly as he had in the apothecary, and smiled at the small flowers.  What did it matter?  She had time. 

AN:   For any history buffs or purists out there, I know my presentation of the different eras is incorrect, sometimes wildly, but that's what poetic license is for this story is just supposed to be fun.  And since I never flat out said what the eras were in the story they appeared in this order: the dark ages, ancient Greece, and the Ottoman empire (or some other Arabic empire like I said I'm playing fast and furious with stereotypes and clichés when it comes to the backgrounds.) 


End file.
